


Aloha

by stellarmeadow



Series: Season 4 Codas/Missing Scenes [21]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode Related, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, coda episode 4.21
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a·lo·ha  (ə-lō′ə, -hə, ä-lō′hä′)<br/>interj. Chiefly Hawaii<br/>Used as a traditional greeting or farewell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aloha

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly written at 30,000 feet, on 5 hours of sleep and some Jack and Coke. Hope it makes sense! Thanks to smudgegirl for catching my mistakes--anything left wasn't for her lack of trying to corral my errant typos!

Steve was moving the poker tables into the living room when the phone rang. He smiled as he saw Danny's face on the screen. "You're not backing out, are you?" Steve said as he answered.

Danny laughed. "Not likely--I'm looking forward to taking all your money."

"Yeah, _that's_ what's not likely. I have a great poker face."

"You have a terrible poker face, babe. I can read you like a book. The _See Spot Run_ type of book."

"Oh, well, good, then it matches your reading level."

"You're not funny." Danny's amused tone said otherwise. "Not even a little."

Steve leaned against one of the tables and shifted the phone to his other ear. "Was there a reason for this call, other than to insult me?"

"Yes, actually. I'm about to leave--do you need me to get anything for tonight?"

"Beer?"

"How did I know that's what you were going to say?"

"Apparently you can read me like a book, so...."

"Good point. See you in a few."

"Love ya," Steve said, because now that he could, he didn't seem to be able to stop.

The amusement was still in Danny's voice as he replied, "Love you, too."

Steve hung up and stuffed the phone back in his pocket, still smiling. He liked the idea of Danny being able to read him so easily. If it was anyone else, it would bother him, but Danny wasn't anyone else. 

He was careful not to examine that any more closely than he examined their new casual tossing around of a phrase that had never exactly rolled off his tongue with ease, until now. Three little words that had terrified him until he'd been so sure he was going to lose Danny. Not, as he'd always expected, to Stan's job taking him away, or the lure of Jersey, but lose him forever. Permanently.

The thought of it still made him a little dizzy. 

He tucked that thought back into its little box in the corner of his mind he didn't like to visit and went back to moving in the poker tables.

***  
"You realize that both of you are certifiably insane, right?"

Steve tossed his cargo pants into his backpack. "What am I supposed to do, Danny? I can't let her go alone."

"You could try talking her into _not going_!"

Steve stopped searching his drawer to look at Danny. "What if it was Grace, Danny?"

"Okay, I get it," Danny said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I get it. But we are not talking about Wo Fat and some hired guns here, Steve. We're talking about the fucking Taliban. I know you think you're an Army of one--sorry, _Navy_ of one--but even you took entire platoons or whatever to fight the Taliban, right?"

"I'm not going to fight them, Danny. I'm just going to get in, rescue a kidnapped kid, and get out. That's all."

"Right, and last time you were just going to rescue one guy and that worked out _so_ well."

Steve clamped his jaw down hard. He got it, he did, despite what Danny might think, but getting it didn't change the situation or what he had to do. But he understood Danny's underlying concern. "This isn't North Korea," he said softly.

"No, it's fucking Afghanistan. And your memories of there are so much better, right?"

He'd been mostly successful most of the time keeping the nightmares at night, and keeping them from bothering him during the day, but bits and pieces slipped through occasionally. Like now, when he saw random flashes before he told his brain to stop. 

"I have to go," Steve said, quiet, but insistent. He owes Catherine more than he can repay, especially in light of how he'd recently realized how unfair he'd been to her. She was safe for him, and he was happy to stick with safe, but she deserved more than safe. 

So he'd go with her, and repay a little of his debt, and rescue an innocent kid in the process. When they got back...then he'd talk to her about it. 

"I know," Danny said finally. "Of course, you have to go. You have to take care of her."

His tone made Steve want to punch the wall. Danny sounded defeated, like he thought this was something far beyond a debt repaid. "I owe her, Danny," Steve said again. "I'd do the same for anyone on our team."

"I understand."

But his voice was still saying he didn't undestand, or not what Steve had been trying to get him to understand anyway. "No. You don't understand," Steve said, putting his hand on Danny's shoulder and meeting his eyes. "Look...when I get back, we should talk. Okay?"

"Okay." 

He could tell Danny didn't get it, but he was out of time. It would have to wait until he got back. "Okay," Steve said, looking around. "Where the hell is my scarf?" 

Danny opened the drawer Steve had searched three times and pulled it out, handing it to him. "Are you all packed?"

"Yeah." 

"Okay, come on. I'll give you a ride to the airport." 

***

__  
Steve searched through the rubble, the dust choking his lungs. Freddie, he had to find Freddie. No, wait, this wasn't Kabul, this was Honolulu. It was Danny. Danny was lost, was buried somewhere under the building, probably getting slowly crushed to death and Steve had to find him, had to--  


He jerked awake, feeling Catherine's touch light on his arm. "Sleep well?" she asked.

Of course she wouldn't say anything about the dreams. She never asked, she never pushed. She just accepted whatever reality he set and went with it. She was easy that way--wasn't that why he'd stayed long after he probably should've broken things off?

Danny always pushed. He didn't know how to stop. He made Steve face things, made him see sense when no one else could. 

That's why Steve needed him.

"Like a baby," Steve said, truthfully. He'd had Joan in his house enough to know that babies often slept fitfully and never made it through a whole night. 

"Hey," Catherine said, shifting in her seat to face him, "when we're home, let's go somewhere. Just the two of us. A vacation."

She said 'vacation' but he heard the 'fresh start' that was implied. He couldn't have that talk with her right now. Not here. Not when they're going into his subconscious's favorite layer of hell. "Let's focus on the mission first, okay?"

He saw the flash in her eyes. She covered quickly, but not quickly enough, and he wondered how many times he'd missed that in the past. Maybe she noticed more than she let on.

Or maybe he'd been letting on more than he noticed.

"Sure," she said, easy as ever, not pushing. "Let's go over what we know again."

***

He should've known not to get too smug about wrapping up a case, not with Steve off buzzing around the Taliban like a noisy hornet. 

The second he heart Catherine's voice, he knew something was wrong, but given his recently acknowledged tendency to fear the worst, he stayed calm right up until she said Steve had been captured by the Taliban.

Fucking idiot just _had_ to go. The rest of the call passed in a blur, but Danny got the information he needed. He wasn't even sure what he told Grover. From the moment he'd heard the word 'captured' the only thing really going through his head was one sentence on a loop.

Save Steve.

The drive to Joe's felt like some sort of time warp, jumping from too far and to slow to pulling into Joe's driveway. Joe's concern made Danny want to snap at him--if Joe hadn't helped them get over there in the first place, they might still be in Hawaii. Steve might be driving around in Danny's car being annoying instead of being held in some dark Taliban hole, while they did God only knows what that they did to torture Navy SEALs, and he's watched way too many movies, because he can imagine all sorts of--

_Focus, Danny!_

"I'll call some people," Joe said. "We'll get him back, son, don't worry."

 _I'm not your son, look what you've done to the guy you think of as your son!_ Danny cleared his mind, shifted into crisis mode. He could freak out when Steve was safe. "When do we leave?"

"You're not going."

"The hell I'm not! If you think I'm going to stay here and wait for news, you haven't learned anything about me over the past couple of years."

Joe eyed him for long moment. Danny forced himself not to squirm like he was under a magnifying glass. "I've learned more than you think," Joe said finally. "Which is why it's a bad idea for you to go. But," he added, "it's also why I know I won't be able to stop you."

"Good. Then we can save the time of the argument and get moving." 

***

Steve focused on the taste of burlap and dirt from the sack they'd put over his head to help him focus. He paid attention to the route they took--not that he thought he'd get a chance to tell anyone, but if he got a chance to escape, he wanted to have an idea where they'd taken him. 

While they drove in a straight line, he took stock of his injuries. A couple of broken ribs, he thought, from the sharp pains every time they hit a bump. His left shoulder, which had never been completely perfect after Hesse's bullet, was fucked up. He didn't think it was dislocated, but there was something not right--collarbone, maybe?

He hated that he was so fuzzy that he couldn't tell, but the grenade had made everything hazy for a few minutes. His ears still had that post-concert feel, like he had cotton or something between the outside world and his eardrums. 

At least reality seemed to be mostly there. He'd woken unsure where he was, his mind going back to training, before realizing that no, this was real. Then memory had come back in a rush, and he'd started taking stock of his surroundings as much as he could. 

He caught snippets of conversation, including the name Hassan, confirming that he was, in fact, alive and Steve was apparently to have the dubious honor of meeting him. 

Because this day couldn't possibly get any better.

He laughed as he realized that had been Danny's voice in his head. Danny, who was back in Hawaii, who would probably get a call from Catherine any time and go out of his head with worry. 

Figures that just when Steve had gotten Danny to stop expecting the worst, he'd then gone and provided it.

He focused on Danny, though, clung to moments that would get him through what was to come. Danny's smile, his laugh, the way he pushed through anything, bitching all the way, but doing whatever was needed nonetheless. The way he pushed, badgered and pretty much forced Steve to see things differently, to understand that there was life outside of duty, outside of service. 

Danny in bed was no different, pushing, giving as good as he got, not letting Steve hide or leave any part of himself secreted away, stripping him bare in more ways than just his clothes.

God he was going to miss Danny.

No. He wasn't. Because he was getting out of this. He had things he needed to say to Danny, and he wasn't letting himself get away with not saying them. Because Danny would be pissed. Worse than that, Danny would be disappointed. 

And one thing Steve truly hated was disappointing Danny.

***

_Danny rounded the first truck, throwing the flap on the back open to find it empty. He knew Steve would be in one of them, and he knew he'd be alive. He refused to accept any other possibility._

_He threw open the second and found nothing again, barely sparing it a glance before moving on to the third. He threw back the cover and saw Steve, eerily still. Danny scrambled up into the truck, reaching Steve at last, putting his fingers on Steve's neck._

_Nothing._

_No pulse, skin already cooling to the touch._

_Steve was gone._

Danny jerked awake, looking around. Right. Cargo plane full of men who'd been pulled off the same assembly line that had made Steve the stubborn idiot he was today. 

"You okay, Williams?" The SEAL who had offered him water--Danny felt bad for not remembering his name--was eyeing him like he was going to go into hysterics any second.

"Yeah, fine. I'm actually getting used to these cargo planes. Lots more leg room."

He laughed. "You get through a few of these flights, you sleep better on them then in a nice, soft bed."

Of course he would, because that's what they were trained to do. "You sound just like Steve."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said. "Commander McGarrett is a little bit of a legend." 

Figures the most insane SEALs would be the ones the rest of them looked up to. "He's definitely something," Danny said. 

"He's probably plotting his own escape right now," the guy said. "I remember this one time, I was in Kandahar...."

Danny listened to the SEAL's story, something that sounded so much like Steve's stories, it made Danny's throat catch. Clearly they were all crazy, and it was a little frightening that there were, like, a thousand crazy Steve-clones running around saving the world, but he got it. The story wasn't just a way to pass the time. It was the SEAL version of 'don't worry, we have the ability to get out of impossible scrapes embedded in our DNA.'

Steve was going to be fine.

***

_  
"I love you, son. I know I don't say it enough."_

_The shot echoed in Steve's ear, disappearing into the feel of Danny's arms around him, Danny's scent combined with blood and dust and bomb residue, Danny's soft, "I love you" in Steve's ear, louder than the shot that had killed his father and, in some ways, more life-changing._

_Danny's scent, the sweat, it all conjured up memories of the best moments of his life, the ones he saved up to pull out when nothing else cleared away the nightmares, of Danny, naked in his arms, like Heaven had fallen to Earth and wrapped itself around him._

_It felt so good Steve wanted to stay there, wanted to be buried in Danny's body forever. "Danny..."  
_

The punch ripped Danny out of Steve's arms and brought Steve back to the present. "Who is this Danny? Is it the woman? Where is she?" 

Steve glared at his interrogator, and was rewarded with another punch. He glared again, taking the punches, knowing that they'd soon send him back to his dreams, back to the only version of Danny he was ever going to get now.

***

Danny took a moment to marvel at the fact that he was actually in Jalalabad, a place he was only too happy to have just heard of on the news until now. Steve had certainly expanded Danny's horizons in general, but this was one horizon he'd have been just fine not expanding.

He watched the SEALs getting ready to go out and get Steve, a little sad that he didn't get to see Steve like this. For all that he was used to Steve in what Danny liked to call soldier mode, it wasn't quite like this. Danny recognized the quick, efficient motions as they checked their weapons and equipment, though, and the team camaraderie that he knew came only from shared success and failure. 

Granger interrupted Danny's musings, telling him they'd done recon and yes, the Taliban was at the coordinates Catherine had given him, but they had no way to know if Steve was there, or alive.

"No, no. He's alive."

"How can you know that?" 

"Because I know him. Trust me, he's alive, okay?" Because Steve would never leave him. Danny had tried to get rid of him in vain for a while before accepting that fact. He'd gone beyond accepting to believing in it, trusting in it.

Steve was the one constant in his life, and Danny knew that if nothing else was certain, he could count on that.

He followed the SEALs out, watching as they filed onto the plane. He was so intent on watching them that he didn't notice someone at his shoulder until he heard, "Mr. Williams," in his ear.

Danny turned to see a guy in his mid- to late-fifties standing there, casual clothes completely out of place. "Detective Williams, actually."

"We're not in Hawaii."

"And yet I earned that title anywhere, even out of my jurisdiction," Danny said. "The CIA should understand that."

The man inclined his head as if conceding Danny a point, when Danny knew the CIA wouldn't concede anything to anyone. "I'm Agent Smith. I'd like to ask you a few questions." 

_Agent 'Smith.' Right._ "I'd like to ask you more than a few questions," Danny said. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

The man allowed a little glare to show through his stoic mask, and Danny mentally marked one point on his side, definitely earned. "We need to know where McGarrett got his intel and who was helping him."

Danny shrugged. "Sorry, you'll have to ask him. I just got a call that my friend was in trouble and flew out to be here when they bring him back."

He didn't miss that look, either, the one that said Danny was naive to think Steve was coming back, and Danny silently added a point to Steve's scoreboard for how badly the CIA had underestimated him in general. "In case Mr. McGarrett--"

" _Commander McGarrett_ ," Danny corrected. "I think you're aware he's more than earned that title as well."

"Sorry, Commander McGarrett. In case he doesn't return, we need to know where he got his intel so we can follow up on the information and get the people who took him."

"Well, he _is_ going to return, so you don't really need to worry." Danny tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "Unless, of course, you're hoping he won't return."

"Commander McGarrett is an American citizen and a decorated Navy SEAL," Smith said, as smooth as if he really meant what he was saying. "Of course we want him to return."

"And yet I can't help thinking how much easier life might be for certain parts of the CIA if he didn't," Danny said.

Smith's lips thinned. "I'll just wait and talk to him when he gets back then, shall I?"

Danny waved a hand towards the base. "Be my guest."

***

Steve wasn't sure what was going on when they untied him from the chair. It was only when they shoved him to his knees and held him with both arms, and he looked up and saw the little red light on the camera, that it registered.

This was his execution.

There was no last minute rescue. There was no happy ending. This was going to be the end right here, and it was not going to be pretty, and it was going to be seen by the people he cared about.

Danny would see this.

He should have talked to Danny before he left. Danny deserved to know how Steve really felt, to hear everything that Steve had been too much of a coward to say before he took off on this mission. And now he wasn't going to get the chance to say any of it.

Fuck that.

If he was going down, he was going to fight, because he was either going to get out of this to tell Danny all those things, or he was going to make damn sure that the video showed that he fucking tried.

Hassan was droning on behind him, giving Steve the chance to make one more attempt. He gathered up all the energy he had left, slamming his head back with as much force as he could and pulling the men holding him together, using their weight against them to get free. 

He kicked Hassan back and ran forward, but he was too slow, or his captors were too quick, because one of them slammed a rifle into Steve's gut. Steve fell to his knees, feeling the kicks and punches, but too numb to really feel the pain that went with them.

That had been his last chance, and he'd failed. Hassan was going to win, and Danny was never going to know how Steve really felt.

The tug on his hair was painful, and Steve knew what was coming next, had had it drummed into his head that this could always be his end, and his goal was to avoid it at all costs. He wanted to go stoically, but he couldn't, not with the load of regrets on his shoulders. 

And then all hell broke loose.

Steve ducked and rolled to the side, curling up into a ball as bullets flew overhead. He had no idea who was coming through the door, but if they killed Hassan and his men, maybe Steve stood a chance at escape. 

The bullets stopped, but Steve stayed where he was, protecting himself until a voice said, "Steve McGarrett?"

He was confused. That wasn't Danny--shouldn't it be Danny rescuing him? No, wait, that was before, in North Korea. This was--Afghanistan? "Huh?"

"Are you Steve McGarrett?"

Who else would they be here for? "Yes."

"You're gonna be okay, Commander." 

It registered at last--this was a team sent in to take out Hassan--for good this time--and save him. And they'd come just in time. 

He was going home. 

"What--how?" Steve asked, as he was lifted up. 

"I'm not exactly sure, but there's a short, blond, mouthy guy back at the base who can tell you."

Danny? At the base? Had they sent these guys from Pearl? "I'm sure he'll have a lot of words for me," Steve joked, as relief flowed through him.

"I'm sure he will."

"That's okay, I have a lot of words for him, too."

Because there were things he needed to say, things he'd come too close to not being able to say. And now he could, he realized, as they loaded him onto a helo.

It was his last thought before everything went black.

***

"Two cracked ribs," the medic was saying, "and a fracture in his collar bone. A broken nose, a lot of bruising, abrasions, some swelling, but no sign of internal bleeding. He's a lucky man."

Lucky man, indeed.

 _Package is secure._ The words kept going through Danny's mind, the second best combination of three words he'd ever heard. He'd never stopped telling himself that Steve was alive, but his brain couldn't help throwing the doubt in there at times, so much so that he'd had to be there when they'd taken Steve off the helicopter. Danny had barely been able to believe, even when he'd seen Steve on the stretcher. He'd been so still, so much like the dead Steve in the back of the truck in Danny's nightmares, that even then he had wondered if they'd gotten there too late. 

But no, Steve was alive. He was lying in a bed, entirely too quiet and still for Danny's peace of mind, but alive. And, if the doctor was to be believed, relatively lucky in his injuries. 

"So what kind of care does he need?" Danny asked.

"Well, I'd say a week's rest, but I'm all too familiar with these guys," the doctor said. "Just try to get him to take it easy and not to bust any stitches or pull too hard on any strained muscles. Hell, I'll just be happy if you can get him to wear the sling home."

Danny laughed. He wanted to tear his hair out at times, dealing with one Steve McGarrett. He couldn't imagine dealing with a whole legion of them. "Thanks, doc," Danny said. "I'll see what I can do." 

The doctor nodded and walked away, leaving Danny to take the seat next to Steve's bed. He sat there for a while, watching as people moved around, going about their various jobs as if the world hadn't been complete chaos until a couple of hours ago. 

Though he supposed that, for these people, chaos was every day.

He studied Steve, taking in the cuts--too many to count--and the bruising that was starting to turn interesting colors on Steve's face. They were like cats, the both of them, escaping death left and right. He wondered how many lives they had left, and if maybe, just maybe, between all the near-death experiences, they might be able to find something that wasn't death, crime and loss. Something special. Something real.

Maybe he'd get up the guts to ask Steve, if he ever woke up.

***

Lights.

That's all Steve saw at first, fuzzy lights. He blinked and turned his head, and was sure he was either hallucinating or dreaming. "Danny?"

"Yeah, I'm right here, you all right?" 

Then he remembered. "Where's Catherine?" he asked, struggling to sit up. "Is she all right?"

"Relax. Hey." Danny touched Steve's arm, and Steve settled a little as he realized Danny was real. He was there. "I spoke to her when she called me about you," Danny said, "but we got disconnected. I tried her back a couple of times, but it didn't go through."

He saw Danny's focus shift to the other side of the room, and a second later, Danny nodded in that direction. "CIA. You hear me?"

The urgency was clear, as was the message. Now was a great time for selective amnesia.

Steve looked in that direction and saw a Captain he didn't know, accompanied by the guy Steve assumed was CIA. He certainly looked it. 

"You're gonna need to step outside," the Captain said to Danny.

Before Steve could protest, Danny said, "No, no, I'm gonna stay right here with him." 

Steve held back the smile at Danny's complete lack of respect for authority when it came to the military. "Excuse me?" the Captain said, obviously not used to his orders not being followed.

"I'm not a soldier. You don't have any authority over me. So I'm gonna stay put."

No belligerence, no confrontation, just quiet assurance that the guy wasn't moving him, no matter what he tried. It was so unlike Danny and like him all at the same time that Steve felt a little pride welling up inside him.

Or possibly that was the broken ribs making themselves known.

"Okay," the CIA guy said, obviously not caring about Danny. Or maybe hoping he would get the message as well. "I'm gonna make this real simple for you, Commander. We know you weren't over here alone. So unless you want to spend the next ten years in prison, you need to tell me who else was involved, and how you got your intel."

That the CIA thought they were getting anything out of him was so funny Steve had to take a moment to fight back a laugh. Laughing wouldn’t do Joe or Catherine any good. So he fell back on the one defense they couldn't disprove and they couldn't fault him for. "You know, Hassan's boys, they knocked me around pretty good," Steve said slowly, annoyed that it wasn't all for show. He was having some trouble breathing. "My short term memory's a little foggy, I'm sorry."

"Let me ask you something," CIA said, and Steve wished he was in better shape, so he could punch the smug look off the asshole's face. "Who the hell do you think you are, huh? Because once you leave those little islands of yours, you're a civilian. Now I want a name and the source of your intel. Now."

"Like I said, I'd love to help you," Steve said, amazed that it didn't sound more sarcastic, "but I just can't remember."

CIA looked at the Captain, who just shook his head. "All right," the Captain said at last. "Today you get a pass. But these rogue ops of yours are over. And speaking on behalf of the entire US Military, you ever set foot in this part of the world again, you are gonna be in it up to your neck. I don't care what you did in the service, I will personally throw you in the brig."

Translation: I respect you, but you fuck with my region again and I will burn your ass.

"Are we clear?"

Steve gave the only answer his training would let him. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now you are gonna get your ass onto a plane back to the states. To make sure that happens, these two Masters at Arms are gonna escort you." He nodded at two MPs standing against the far wall, men Steve was pretty sure he couldn't take in his present condition.

That was going to make getting out of here to find Catherine difficult.

"Nice to meet you both," Danny said, as CIA and the Captain left. 

Steve didn't even wait until they were completely out of the room before telling Danny to take the IV out of his arm. 

"What are you doing?" Danny's hand was warm on Steve's shoulder, pushing him back into the bed. "Relax." 

"I can't leave Catherine out there by herself."

"Okay," Danny said, his hand still keeping Steve in the bed, "stop, please, okay? Didn't you hear what the guy said?" Danny asked, his voice a whisper, but no less intense than it was in a full rant. "He's gonna put you in jail. We don't need that, all right? Catherine's a big girl, she can take care of herself. Put your head down and relax, okay? Please?"

Fuck. Danny was right. If he went after her with the entire military on his ass, he'd only draw them to her. 

There was nothing he could do.

Trust Danny to be thinking sense when Steve was just thinking about the mission.

Speaking of which...what the fuck was Danny doing there in the first place?

Danny frowned at him. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"I can't believe you flew all this way," Steve said honestly. Because...he'd done exactly what Danny had convinced him not to. And he hadn't even been able to commit, hell, he hadn't even been able to break up with his girlfriend for Danny.

And yet here Danny was, in Afghanistan, Danny, who hated deserts and most definitely hated unstable regions, was there. For Steve.

Danny being Danny, he shrugged it off. "I had to make sure you were okay," he said. "Plus you owe me five hundred from the poker game."

It felt like it was the first time Steve had laughed in ages. It hurt like hell, but he needed it. So much.

Just like he needed Danny.

"Glad you find that funny," Danny teased.

The things he owed this man...Steve felt the weight of that crushing in on his cracked ribs. At the very least he owed about a million thanks. He could at least give one.

"Thanks, Danny." 

"You're welcome." Danny sounded pleased. "Just cool out, and we'll go home, all right?"

He liked the way 'home' sounded on Danny's lips. It was soothing, like a Hawaiian rainstorm in the afternoon, lulling him to sleep when he was a kid.

***

"Air India flight 244 non-stop to Delhi is pleased to welcome our first class passengers on board. Please have your boarding pass out and ready as you approach the gate."

"Come on," Danny said, standing up and moving to help Steve get out of the chair. "That's us." 

Steve was eyeing him oddly as he let Danny help him up. "We're in first class?" 

"Yeah, well, I pulled some strings. Thought you might be more comfortable with the fold out beds, given your..." He nodded to indicate Steve's injuries, which were pretty much everywhere. He didn't add that he'd really guilted Joe into pulling some strings--seriously, was there anywhere that man didn't have connections? He owed it to Steve, after giving him the access that got him into this mess in the first place.

"Come on," Danny said again, hovering just to Steve's side so he could be there if Steve faltered. He hadn't so far, but Danny was too close to the memory of Steve lying in that bed, so fragile and so still. It wasn't a look that he normally associated with Steve and it might have had him a little more rattled than normal.

As soon as they were high enough to be allowed to stretch the seats out into beds, Steve was asleep. Danny watched, half because he was afraid not to, and half because he was waiting for the nightmares to start. 

Half an hour in, Steve started shifting restlessly, mumbling under his breath. Danny wrapped a hand around Steve's wrist, leaning over him, his other hand resting on Steve's head. "Hey. Shhh. It's okay. You're safe, nothing's going on. Just sleep. You gotta get better."

His thumb rubbed along Steve's temple a few times, and Steve quieted down, falling back into a more restful sleep. 

Danny slid his hand down into Steve's and kept watch.

***

Danny dropped Steve off at his house, promising to go get dinner and be back in ten minutes, despite Steve's protests. "You won't heal if you don't eat," Danny said. "Quit arguing. I'll see you in a few minutes."

Steve shook his head, but he wasn't really quite ready to let Danny out of his sight for long, and he suspected Danny felt the same way. Steve had slept really well on the flights home. Every time a nightmare started, he'd heard Danny's voice, chasing it away. He still wasn't sure if that had been real, and he couldn't bring himself to ask. It didn't matter in the end, whether it was Danny actively doing something, or just his presence, it was Danny. And Steve didn't want to let that go.

He didn't want to let Danny go.

His phone rang as he let himself into the house, and he thought for a second it was Danny, asking about dinner. Then he saw the number. 

"Hello? Catherine?"

"Hey."

"Catherine." Steve let out a sigh of relief. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Hassan's men were searching the area and I had to lay low until they were gone."

"What about the kids?"

"They're safe."

"Was Najib with them?"

"No. But I got a lead on where he might be. I think they might've taken him across the border."

He heard what she wasn't saying, but it took him a moment to let himself believe it enough to even say it out loud. "You're going after him, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am. I have to. And I can't come back until I find him."

He couldn't let her do that alone. He owed her. "Okay, that's fine. I'm gonna come back, all right? I'm gonna come back, we can do this together. I'll help you find him."

"Steve, no."

"Catherine--"

"No. Listen to me. You've helped me enough, okay? It's better for me to do this alone. I can keep a low profile that way. It's just easier." 

He didn't know what to say to that, didn't have an argument that could combat it. All he knew was that he did care about her, did love her, and he wanted her to be safe. 

"You know I'm right," she said.

There had to be an argument she would buy. He thought hard, but still nothing came to mind. 

"You understand why I need to do this, don't you?" she asked when he still said nothing.

He took a breath. If he couldn't help her, then he could at least be strong about it. "Yeah," he said, "of course I do." And he did. He'd do the same thing in her shoes. They were so much alike. It was what had drawn them together.

And it was why they'd never work long term.

"You just promise me...." Steve said, unable to finish the sentence. 

"I promise you I'll be careful. I'll be careful." 

For something that wasn't a goodbye, it felt a hell of a lot like one. And there were things she deserved to hear if it was. "I love you, you know," he said, and he did, it was true. He did love her.

Just not enough.

"I love you, too," she said after a moment. 

"All right," he said. "Good luck, Cath."

"Thanks," she replied. There was a long pause before she added, "Aloha."

It was like a door closing, the echoing crack as clear as the gunshot that had killed his father. "Aloha," he said back. _Goodbye._

There was nothing left to say, so he hung up the phone and sat there, wondering why he was always saying goodbye. Why everyone left. Was there something wrong with him? Some fatal flaw they all found in the end that they just couldn't handle? 

Or was it just that he couldn't give them what they needed? He couldn't commit, couldn't even consider it, until it was too late. He'd always found something more important that needed to be done first.

Or maybe that was just his excuse. Maybe he needed to take his own advice and stop pushing people away whenever they got too close. Whenever it got too risky. Maybe he needed to start with Danny.

Of course, he might have already missed that chance. He'd practically thrown Danny at Amber. He'd have to feel his way a little, because all he wanted was for Danny to be happy. If Amber was what made him happy, then Steve wouldn't interfere.

But if there was a chance that Danny was still interested in something more with Steve....

The door opened, and Steve turned to see Danny coming through it with bags. "They were out of--" Danny said, before he stopped and looked at Steve. "What's wrong?"

"What?"

"I know that face. What happened?"

Steve held up his phone. "I heard from Catherine," he said, as he shoved his phone back in his pocket.

"Is she okay?" 

"Yeah, she just...she's still looking for Najib." 

Danny studied Steve for a moment. "You're not thinking of doing something really stupid and going back over there, are you?"

"No." When Danny looked like he didn't believe him, Steve said, "No, I promise, I'm not. I'd tell you if I was. But I can't. I wouldn't know where to find her, and besides...."

After a few seconds, Danny prompted, "Besides?"

Steve sighed. "We said our goodbyes on the phone," Steve said. "Even if she does come back one day, things have changed." 

Danny blinked at him. "Goodbyes?" 

"Yeah." Steve scratched at the back of his neck, suddenly unable to quite look Danny in the eye. "It wasn't...It was never going to work. We both knew it. And I just...." He had so many things he needed to tell Danny, all those things he'd been regretting not saying when he was about to be executed. But he needed to make sure that he wasn't messing up Danny's chance with Amber, if that was what would make Danny happy. "I just thought you should know, that's all."

Danny stared at him until Steve wanted to run away and hide, afraid he'd screwed up already. "Okay," Danny said finally. "You want to eat in the dining room or the living room?"

"Living room," Steve said. He didn't think his body was up to sitting in a stiff dining room chair. Plus, Danny would be closer that way. 

"Okay. Sit." Danny put the bags on the coffee table. "I'll go get plates."

Well, Steve thought, as he watched Danny go into the kitchen, he had told Danny that he was no longer with Catherine, and Danny hadn't run. He supposed that was a start. 

Danny came back with plates, forks, and.... "Water?" Steve asked.

"You have antibiotics and pain pills and all kinds of other stuff and they had to put an IV in you for hours for dehydration," Danny said sitting down and shoving the water bottle at Steve. "Water is your best friend for the next few days, got it?"

Steve huffed a soft laugh that turned into a cough, though he thought it was getting better. It hurt a little less. Or maybe that was the company. "Yes, sir," he said, when the coughing stopped, giving Danny a little salute.

"Good." Danny started pulling containers out of the bags, while Steve turned on the Yankees game. They shared the different dishes, talking in between bites. It felt good, Steve realized. Better than good, it felt right. Like nothing else had since he and Danny had stopped sleeping together. 

He really needed to find out just how serious Danny was about Amber. And soon. 

\---  
END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


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